


tell me how i mesmerize you

by YouDontRememberTheSomme



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Cock Warming, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingering, M/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouDontRememberTheSomme/pseuds/YouDontRememberTheSomme
Summary: “What is it?” It was too dangerous to outright agree without hearing the terms, too possible to end the evening too edged to speak coherently or overstimulated and unable to keep his body from shaking. No, as readily as he would agree to either, he had to put his finger on Rossi’s intentions for the evening first.
Relationships: Charles Cooke/James Rossi, Private Cooke/Private Rossi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	tell me how i mesmerize you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nurax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nurax/gifts), [RUHX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RUHX/gifts).



The soft clicking of typewriter keys stopped, replaced by a resigned sigh.

“Are you going to keep staring until I give you my undivided attention, princess?”

Cooke perked up a bit from his spot in the doorway, having been staring at Rossi until he looked up.

“Can we fool around a bit?” Cooke asked sweetly, giving Rossi a look of pure innocence- the look that always told James his thoughts were anything but.

Rossi’s eyes flickered to his half-finished article, mulling over his options. “How about we play on my terms tonight?”

Cooke stood up straighter, not taking much coaxing to wander over and settle in his boyfriend’s lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, batting his eyelashes with a faux-innocence Rossi _knew_ he didn’t possess.

“Open your mouth,” Rossi said, his tone edging close to bored. “Get my fingers nice and wet, yeah?”

He considered dropping his disinterested facade when he saw the way Cooke’s face flushed, bright red and a bit shy. 

“Don’t act sweet now, you knew what you were asking for. _Now_.”

Cooke’s breath hitched as he stared up at Rossi and set to obeying orders. 

James didn’t pay much attention to him, his mind only half on his work as he slid his fingers in and out of Cooke’s mouth. 

“Jamie?” he whispered, his voice muffled and high and nearing breathless.

“Hm?”

“You aren’t looking at me.”

_I’m being so pretty for you_ , _why aren’t you watching?_ went unsaid, lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“You interrupted what I was doing, doll,” Rossi murmured, condescension soaked in a sugary sweet tone. “I need to focus on finishing this article, remember?”

Cooke let out a little whimper, letting Rossi pull his hand away. “Jamie…”

“Undress.” 

Rossi looked away from his work, finally meeting Cooke’s gaze and taking in his flushed face.

“I said undress, love,” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Cooke shuddered, sliding off Rossi’s lap and trying to snag his undivided attention as he slowly, nervously unbuttoned his shirt.

“Look at me,” he whined, plaintive and needy.

“I’ll make you a deal, sugar.”

“What is it?” It was too dangerous to outright agree without hearing the terms, too possible to end the evening too edged to speak coherently or overstimulated and unable to keep his body from shaking. No, as readily as he would agree to either, he had to put his finger on Rossi’s intentions for the evening first.

“You sit in my lap and keep my cock nice and warm for me, and once I’m done with work, I’ll give you as much as you’d like. My baby doll always likes his rewards, doesn’t he?”

Cooke shivered, eyeing him. “How long are you going to be busy?”

“Depends on how much you try to distract me.”

He hesitated a bit, eyeing Rossi. “Alright.”

“So come here, princess.”

Cooke very slowly settled in Rossi’s lap, trying to get a bit of his attention. “Jamie?”

“What is it, doll?”

“Want you to touch me,” he mumbled plaintively. “It feels better when it’s you.”

“You can handle me not watching tonight, yeah?” Rossi said absently, making Cooke whine louder. “You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”

Cooke shivered and nodded, trying not to feel slighted. As much as he liked Rossi’s cool demeanor, it always stung a tiny, insecure part of him, the part that tried so hard to keep his attention.

He clamped his mouth shut, trying not to moan too loudly as Rossi teased his fingers around Cooke’s entrance. “Fuck-“

“Watch your mouth.” There’s no bite to the words, just a bored command. 

“James…” It’s a low whine as Rossi sinks his index finger into him. He remembers the tin of lube he’d tucked into the top right desk drawer with a wink, a promise of ‘ _we’ll use it later’_ that Rossi had laughed off at the time. It wasn’t long before it’s been put to use, Cooke pinned to the desk and Rossi hissing soft praise in his ear. 

Cooke shivered, tucking his head under Rossi’s chin and focusing on breathing. It was so easy to get lost in his thoughts, reminded of the fact that Rossi’s fingers were slicked with his spit and all the other memories of those hands.

“You’re already wet,” Rossi murmured, his lips brushing Cooke’s temple with something like affection. “Pushing back against my fingers already and you’ve only got one in you. Needy little princess.”

“Shut up,” Cooke weakly insisted. “Write your fucking article.”

“You’re always so mouthy, baby girl,” Rossi softly sighed.

“Shut _up_ ,” he whimpered, his usual biting sarcasm replaced with docile sulking. “Please- please just hurry.”

Rossi gently withdrew his hand, drawing a pleading sound from Cooke. “Just need to get you ready, love,” he soothed, his writing all but forgotten as he slicked his fingers. “Don’t want to break my little doll.”

“‘m not a toy,” he mumbled into Rossi’s shoulder, pleasant shudders wracking though his body as Rossi gently worked him open. 

“No,” James softly agreed, planting a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. “A lot of fucking fun to play with, though. I love how you look with my fingers in you.”

Cooke managed a desperate little noise, shutting his eyes tighter. He’d been wanting Rossi since he’d gotten home from work, but what had his Jamie done? Disappeared into his little study, offering a promise of spending time with him after dinner but 7 pm had come and gone and Rossi hadn’t left his writing. At first, he’d considered acting out, doing something that would gain Rossi’s stern attention, but he really thought being sweet would earn his approval. 

_Fuck_ , if he didn’t always love whatever he meted out to him, though.

Cooke was dragged out of his thoughts when he felt Rossi pressing into him, looking down at him with dark eyes. The low sigh that escaped James’s mouth made Cooke whimper and squirm, wanting to hear more.

“Steady, princess, steady. We’ve got all evening.”

“You mean you’ve got all evening to fucking tease,” he mumbled, soft mewls slipping out of his throat as he tried to adjust.

“Don’t be a brat, all you’ve got to do is wait,” Rossi soothed, tangling one hand in Cooke’s hair.

Cooke softly panted, his thighs trembling as he tried not to think about Rossi inside him. He scrambled for any thought, _any_ , to take his mind of it.

His hips twitched, drawing a soft groan out of James. “Stay still,” Rossi hissed in his ear. He sounded just as breathless as Cooke felt, and Charlie felt a little surge of hope. Maybe he’d quit halfway through his writing and fuck him properly if he could coax him into doing so.

He waited until he heard the typing begin again, leaving little kisses along Rossi’s throat. Cooke writhed a bit in his lap, grinding down against him and letting out a yelp when Rossi pinned his hips still. 

“Jamie-“

“ _Wait._ ”

“Please, I know you wanna fuck me too,” he whined, giving him puppy eyes. 

“The longer you misbehave, the longer we’re sitting here not doing anything. Let me work.”

Cooke let a pathetic little whine slip, reluctantly going still when he remembered their agreement. His writing couldn’t take _that_ long, especially not when he’d spent all afternoon on it.

The longer it took, the more Cooke fought with himself to stay still, focusing on breathing or anything- _anything_ \- to take his focus off of the way Rossi’s girth stretches him _just_ the right way, the way that if he rolled his hips, Rossi would be brushing against the spot that made him whine and moan. 

The sound of the typewriter keys was starting to grate on Cooke’s nerves, his hips twitching as he fidgeted in Rossi’s lap. “Another paragraph, doll,” Rossi said gently. “I’ll type slower if you move again.”

“Nooo,” he softly pleaded. “Hurry, ’m being so good…”

“Keep being good for me. Just a couple more minutes, yeah?” Rossi soothed. “My princess is being so good for me, aren’t you, baby girl?”

Cooke let a sob-like noise slip, burying his face in the crook of Rossi’s neck and trying not to whimper. “Jamie,” he said weakly, the sound of silence hitting him instead of typing. “Are you done?”

“You’ve been so patient for me, kitten.”

Cooke softly moaned in relief, digging his nails into Rossi’s back. “Please, love,” he begged, letting a high keening noise slip when Rossi grinded up into him.

“Bambi wants his reward, doesn’t he?” he whispered, smothering Cooke in kisses. “So good for me, aren’t you?”

Cooke squirmed and nodded, trembling as Rossi took hold of his hips. “Fuck me,” he mumbled. 

“Gladly,” Rossi softly groaned, leaving open-mouthed kisses down Cooke’s throat and along his shoulder. 

Charlie let a gasp slip when Rossi fucked up into him, yanking him close. “Fuck,” he whimpered, getting louder as Rossi moved him as he pleased. He tried his best to arch into the movements, crying out when Rossi hit the right spot. 

“Fuck, fuck, Jamie, ‘m not gonna last-“ Cooke panted, not able to do much but cling to him as Rossi used him. 

“Go ahead,” he mumbled in Cooke’s ear. “Fuck yourself on me, doll, wanna watch you cum on yourself.”

Cooke let his head fall back, whimpering as he curled his hips and tried to hit the spots that Rossi always seemed to find so effortlessly. 

“That’s it, princess, steady,” Rossi murmured, forcing Cooke to look at him. 

The eye contact made his face burn, made his gaze flicker anywhere but directly at Rossi. 

“Don’t be shy, wanna watch you come undone,” James hissed. “Look at me.”

Cooke reluctantly met his gaze, whimpering his name in breathless little moans as he spilled all over their stomachs.

He hid his face in James’s shoulder, fucking himself through his climax and letting out a soft little cry when he felt Rossi’s. The brunet’s hold on him tightened, pulling him closer with unsteady hands.

The two melted into each other, no sound but their heavy, slowly calming breathing until Rossi gently, ever-so-affectionately, moved Cooke. 

The younger made a weak sound of protest, no real persistence in it as he cuddled into Rossi and let him clean him up.

“I’ll give you my undivided attention now, yeah?” James murmured. “Let’s get you to our room. You did so well...”

”Call off work tomorrow,” Cooke weakly insisted. “You’ve been busy all week, left me all by myself.”

”How about,” Rossi murmured. “I come home early and make up for it by playing with my doll?”

Cooke felt himself nod, already eager for the next day. Maybe Rossi would even be in the mood to go slow, reverent, the way he tended to when he didn’t think he’d paid Cooke enough attention. 

Really, what was there to hate about that?


End file.
